


Archangel's Cave: Where neutral ground is taken up to eleven

by Sir_Habitaxe_of_Prydonia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Implied Smut, Jewish Characters, M/M, Much flashbacks, The people running the bar are Jews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 17:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11949000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Habitaxe_of_Prydonia/pseuds/Sir_Habitaxe_of_Prydonia
Summary: People go to a bar, why? To drink their troubles away, if they're that much.This bar is different. It's run by a whole community of people, either made of tissue or titanium, it didn't matter.Unspoken rules and combat-ready barkeeps make sure the Crisis' bullshit doesn't get in.Now some people, iconic or elusive, take wind of this nice location...





	1. Let the Dragon Experience Tranquility, Marked by High Noon, and Hacking Disorderly APM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ninja hears of it and tries it out, and finds a familiar face and an elusive name.

“Welcome to Archangel’s Cave, where you have religious minorities serve you drinks so you can forget about everything, even us. It’s completely fine, we got used to it over the centuries, and don’t get me started on it not being a cave!” the bartender said, his mild flanging sprinkling the words he spoke. He wore a rabbinical getup except that he had a kippah on instead of the black hat worn by most rabbis. His hair was graying and long, falling to his shoulders, his face framed with a full graying beard.

“Get me ice…” said a robotic ninja as he slowly eased himself on the seat. “These are surprisingly comfortable for bar seats…”

“It is velvet upholstery,” said the bartender, wiping a wine glass clean of purplish-pink lipstick. “Wait a second,” he said as his eyebrows raised. He stared at the ninja and asked. “You’re not an omnic. Omnics don’t ease their way onto a chair like they had the pole up their ass removed.”

An omnic waitress walked by, picking up plates and utensils as she addressed the bartender. “Rabbi, he’s a cyborg. I saw him remove his facial plates and shed some tears.” She said, with a Yiddish accent laced in her voice.

“Well Sheba, that solves it,” said the bartender. “Name, nation, occupation. We have a ‘First Drink Free’ policy but it only applies to the ones on display. That, and the ‘Pay upon checkout, and that includes the bathroom’ one, is something to remember.”

“What if I lie about myself in any of those fields?” the ninja asked.

“Then you’ll have to _live_ with that lie while you’re in the bar property, and that includes the waiting line.” He answered, as he motioned for the waitress.

“I have your genetic information recorded, sir. This, _doesn’t_ lie.” The waitress said to the ninja.

“She has you good, kid.” The rabbi said, pushing his shoulder-length graying hair aside.

The ninja sighed and turned to the waitress. “Shimada Genji, Japan. Shambali student.”

“Thank you so much,” the waitress said. “Now, tell the Rabbi your choice of free drink, I will address the other customers.”

Just then, a thud came from Genji’s left. A tired, pained, Japanese man in his prime fell his head on the bar top, and groaned painfully.

“As you wish, Mr. Shimada. Your usual, the nigorizake.” The bartender replied almost automatically.

“Shimada— Onii-san?” Genji said, surprised.

“I am not talking to you, runt.” His brother said. “Bother the bartender while I be left alone.”

“As you wish, sir.” The waitress said, quickly passing by.

“Genji.” The bartender began. “Choose, or I choose for you.”

Genji pointed at the whiskey placed in front of his point of view.

“Ah, Jack. With Coke, or just the liquor?” The bartender asked. The ninja asked for the former. “Straight-up.”

* * *

After a few drinks, the initially silent Japanese cyborg was now drunk enough to keep blabbering on and on in spite of his usual serene demeanor.

“And then, Master Zenyatta asks me a question. This question, was the thing that truly changed me.” he said, swishing his glass, currently filled with a Cuba Libre.

“And, that question was?” The bartender asked.

“ _Will you accept to gaze into the Iris?_ I’m not going to lie, this rattled me. It was like, converting to a new religion!” Genji said on. The bartender looked at the cyborg, unamused.

“I froze. I went to my room, well, Master let me do so, and I sent a letter to Angela asking for tips.” Genji continued. “However, her reply was something I found weird. Two-thirds of the letter was written in Arabic! Like someone else wrote on it! I was thinking, ‘Ana Amari was declared KIA, and she’s the only one in Overwatch who knows Arabic, let alone really good with it!’ She, and her daughter, but she sent her to where her father was for study—BUT I’m getting beside myself.”

He downed his drink and asked for another. “The letter did encourage me to explore but at the same time it was my choice in the end, so I thought about it. And I said yes! Then, master Zenyatta told me to turn around. We were crossing territory of Afghanistan in order to get north at the time, to add context. So there I went…”

* * *

_“Young grasshopper,” the omnic monk began. “I have observed you before I persistently took you under my tutelage. And I can say one thing, and it is that something has been bothering you for a long time.”_

_“Master, rest assured, the cyborg body doesn’t--”_

_“It is not that indeed, but what you believe led to it.” Zenyatta said, interrupting. “You failed your family by your actions, and your family failed you by their neglect.”_

_“How could I have known my father was spoiling me out of pity?” Genji said, with a near crying tone to his voice. “That my brother had given up on me? Otou-san was already distant from us due to clan work, and then okaa-san passed away. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, my own brother--”  
He pulled his master into an embrace and poured out his pent-up regrets. The ninja had bawled for almost a minute, until the sobs died off._

_The omnic watched his student as he was relieved so that he could get rest. Zenyatta was deep in thought, for the second time since his old friend Mondatta was slain._

_Genji didn’t even sleep, he just took a power nap as his master was contemplating how his student’s life was one of misunderstanding, similar to how the conflict between Man and Omnic erupted._

_Misunderstanding. It can only be repaired through acceptance. And acceptance has to come from both sides._

_The omnic sighed heavily. “I have a method that may be able to help. Lie on the mat, front side down…”_

* * *

“You had fun.” The bartender said, smirking.

“NO, it was painful and it was my first time!” Genji said in defense.

“You liked it.” He continued, wiping off the spills that the swaying ninja made.

“What makes you think I did?” the cyborg asked.

“It was a fond memory.”

The cyborg and the older Jew looked to the side, seeing the older Japanese man now sitting rather than leaving his face sprawled on the bar top.

“Hanzo--”

“You thought _that_ was unforgettable… **This** story begs to differ.”

* * *

_Gunshots fired one after another as the target’s center was bored open by each bullet._

_Hanzo rolled his eyes as he readied another arrow, string taut. He then let it loose, the arrow flying to the center of a target with an arrow already lodged in it. His current arrow tore through the old one hitting the center._

_He turned to the man beside him and said, “I can see your shots scatter. The tiniest bit of strafing does not elude me, gunslinger.”_

_“Y’all haven’t even held a gun, ‘Ah bet.” Said the gunslinger as he holstered his six-shooter and lit his cigar._

_Hanzo glared at the gunslinger. “Pathetic, McCree.”_

_“Y’all came to mah land of the free just ‘ta be condescendin’ and all?” McCree retorted defensively. “Damned Jap.”_

_‘I’ve hit a new nerve, he’s using slurs now.’ Hanzo thought. He mentally smiled at the speculation he made._

_He primed another arrow for his next shot only for a metal arm to grab and hoist him up. McCree had carried him, the archer draped on his shoulder, as he smiled deviously._

_“ITTAI NANDA--”_

_“‘Ah just had this nice ol’ idea on how to discipline that mouth of yers…” he said with a playful at the same time sinister chuckle._

_McCree hauled Hanzo towards the resort, through the halls, and into their room._

_“‘Ah don’t think it’s gonna matter whether ‘Ah ask ya if yer ready or not.” He said._

_Hanzo just collapsed onto the bed, accepting whatever the gunslinger has prepared._

* * *

“Well, Mr. Shimada.” Said the bartender as he poured a glass full of tequila. “Feel any better?”

“Alcohol doesn’t do that.” Hanzo grumbled.

“I meant, did that get that thing off your chest now?” The bartender deadpanned.

Hanzo said nothing. A woman, clad in purple, stretched her hand as the bartender gave her the glass full of tequila. The older Shimada groaned as he rubbed his head, and then hobbled off while Sheba bade him the bar’s signature goodbye; leading him to the exit without him falling.

Sheba returned with the Japanese man’s generous amount of credits and gave them to the bartender, with him punching in the transaction details.

“Ay, cabronas…” she said. “I thought one was a headache, but two of them? At once? Ay caramba…”

“Miss Sombra, welcome.” The bartender said.

“Your hair is a mess.” A human waiter added, as he offered a comb. The woman dressed in purple waved him off.

“Ok, remember last time with the scuffle that happened here between the gamer and the lightbender?” she asked.

“Miss Song and Miss Vaswani were not happy about finding out they were dating the same person, if I recall.” The bartender answered.

“It was either I knock them out or I lose my privileges here…” Sombra mumbled. The bartender gave her a look that said, ‘oh you surely got the message’.

“Oy vey.” Sheba chimed in. “I almost lost a good servo from their rough housing.”

Genji cocked his head in confusion.

“All the waiters and waitresses here double down as bouncers, chico.” Sombra explained. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I hauled both of their delicious culos to a hotel after that…”

* * *

_Sombra had finished her soothing shower and put on lacy purple lingerie. She looked at the mirror and said to herself, “I feel kinda bad for the ese that originally got this room… Hacked his ass to economy so I can get this nice number, heh.”_

_She then approached the bedroom, expecting the two other women to be at each other’s throats._

_What she saw both shocked and turned her on._

_The Korean gamer and Indian lightbender had undressed each other, locked in an intense embrace, kissing deeply._

_The Mexican then teleported to the bathroom and retrieved something, long and thick._

_In the bedroom, Hana had pinned Satya down on the bed, grinding on the Indian as she kissed and nibbled her neck._

_Sombra then uncloaked herself, to their surprise._

_“Sombra?” they both asked in unison._

_The woman in purple merely smirked as she gently caressed the dildo onto the sopping wet womanhood pair right before her._

_“Everyone can be hacked, and I’m gonna do you both, like it or not. I suggest you do.”_

* * *

“Well…” Genji attempted to say something, but failed to think of anything at all.

“What do YOU think?” the bartender asked Sombra. “You call it a score? Or a bomb?”

Sombra put her right hand into an ‘ok’ sign, and swayed it in circles in front of the bartender. “Pendejo, why would you call that a bomb?”

“Is it really advisable to ‘kiss and tell’ about this?” Genji asked.

“An unspoken rule here, is that we who work here, are only to talk about things the customer has said, _to_ that very customer only.” The bartender said. “Those who overhear are expected to comply.”

“You don’t wanna get on my bad side.” Sombra said, activating her hack module. She then dragged a slider for adjusting joint tightness.

Genji’s joints were wrenched to almost shut.

“I would be wise to follow this rule.” Genji said, grunting in trying to move his arm.

Sombra returned the slider to where it was, allowing the ninja to move normally.

With a sigh of relief, the ninja let his head fall on the bar table top with a clang. And a groan.

“Let the dragon…experience… tranquility…”


	2. Chronal Webs, Cold Gravity, and Aerial Superiority

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Englishwoman zips in and avails of services. So does an ex-lifter. As well as two skyrippers testing out some new tweaks.

“Welcome to Archangel’s Cave, where you have religious minorities serve you drinks so you can forget about everything, even us. It’s completely fine, we got used to it over the centuries,” the bartender said. He turned to his left and said, “Blink in the premises again and I will have Sheba throw you out.”

“Sorry luv, got a tad excited there,” said a slender brunette with short hair, goggles, and a chronal accelerator strapped onto her whole chest. She set the music for herself as she went back to her seat, the old-fashioned way.

She couldn’t blink to the seat. Not with Sheba the waitress watching her.

“So, a beer please?” She said, while dazed.

The bartender prepared a mug of beer for the time-traveling Brit while the music played on.

_I met her on Grafton Street right outside of the bar_

_She shared a cigarette with me while her brother played the guitar_

“What’s with the dreamy look in your eyes?” the bartender asked.

“Oh, nothing, just a weird turn of events, starting from having angry sex with a blue assassin to getting steady with a yummy redhead after we shared some fish and chips!” Lena said in a quick breath. “Oi, you raised your eyebrow when I said blue assassin! Anything you know about the bitch?”

The bartender remembered one peculiar customer, three days ago.

* * *

_“Sacre bleu, monsieur.” The blue woman said as she sloshed her wine around, spilling some. “That skinny little lesbian, she interrupted my assassination attempt… I succeeded though, but the way she freaked out on me, mon dieu, I could just grab her by her flower, if you know what I mean!”_

_“I may need to remind you that this is a bar,” the bartender said as he caught every drop the French woman made as she jostled her wine glass a little too much. “You’re a rare case, using a notorious alias as your credentials. Widowmaker… in case you are the real deal, word of caution, this bar is a complete and neutral DMZ.”_

_“Oui, oui…” she said with a groan. “Where was I? Oh, yes. After the failed mission to retrieve the gauntlet of Doomfist from Numbani, I lured the girl to me. Baited her with false information.”_

_“Let me stop you there, so I can guess what happened.” The bartender interrupted. “Sex.”_

_“You’re almost as good as that witness I had to convince to be quiet. She was crafty and could see through my bullshit. So, I had to make a compromise. I fuck her, she shuts up.” Widowmaker sighed. “I can’t get her to get tired so she would not speak of her incessant Harry Potter fan fiction.”_

_“Now that I am intrigued.” The bartender added. “Please don’t tell me she’s one of those, Draco/Hermione shippers, eugh. Ask Sheba about how she gets flooded with hatemail by two hardcore shippers of those kind.”_

_“Non, she ships Padma with Lovegood.” Widowmaker answered, smirking. Her expression soured when she considered the waitress Sheba’s plight. “Tell me the two names of those imbeciles, and I will open a hole in their heads._ _Personne n'échappe à mon regard._ _”_

* * *

“Even if I did, it would violate the rule here.” The bartender said. “Respect the rules, miss Oxton.”

“Sorry, the thought of Widowmaker gets me hot and bothered, no innuendos intended.” Lena replied.

“Tell me about the redhead you bagged.” The bartender said. “Story progression is very important in a bar famed for its ability to listen.”

The music went on.

_With my pretty little Galway Girl  
You're my pretty little Galway Girl_

“She is the most, amazing girl I’ve met! I was snacking on some fish and chips when she spilled hers, so I offered to share, and get a second one for the both of us, on me! And then the holotelly showed Order of the Phoenix and she just let loose with stuff like, the books were better because they built on the lore nicer, how she hated what the movie version of Bill Weasley looks like, she even called how the main actors aged as ‘wtf puberty disease’! I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dan, Rupert and Emma grew up nicely in their own way but they didn’t fit the image of Harry, Ron, and Hermione anymore in my opinion…”

Lena went on about how amazing the redhead was. The bartender was contemplating whether or not this redhead was the girl that Widowmaker said she had to have sex with in order to guarantee her silence.

“Oh, bollocks!” Lena shouted, snapping the bartender’s contemplative daze.

“What-Where-Who?” he asked frantically. Sheba quickly pulled out a pistol pointing at the entrance.

“Nothing to worry about, Rabbi.” She said, holstering her gun. She turned to Lena and asked, “What was that for?”

“Aww crap, I’m very sorry is all!” Lena said, hands together while pouting like a sad puppy. Sheba sighed and then left to tend to the other customers.

“I just realized that I saw something really kinky in the Watchpoint!” Lena said with a smirk.

Just as she was starting the story, a large muscular Russian woman with pink hair sat on the corner seat of the bar, and asked for vodka. “Zarya?” Tracer asked.

“I am very happy,” she replied.

“Miss Zaryanova.” The bartender said to her, handing her the bottle of vodka, knowing that the Russian drinks it directly.

“I finally gave ring to Mei.” Said the ex-powerlifter, dazed. “And then she gave surprise to me.”

The bartender didn’t flinch, as opposed to the ex-pilot whose grin was growing larger.

* * *

_Mei was screaming and crying as she fanned herself with her hand, running around while holding a ring box on another. She was occasionally jumping, which provided a lot of confusion for the already dumbfounded Russian._

_However, Zarya couldn’t help but mentally ogle the Chinese woman while her chubby body jiggled as she jumped or her chest bouncing as she ran around._

_For more or less three minutes after did the climatologist stop and run to her room._

_Zarya looked at the trail of ice Mei’s drone, Snowball, as it followed its companion to her room._

_“He didn’t even seal up properly when he ejected from refill…” She may have fostered hate for omnic-kind but she wasn’t stupid. Omnic bad, drone better, she told herself when she first met Mei, who clarified that Snowball was a drone when the Russian freaked out at first glance._

_With a mixed mush of worry and weary, Aleks followed the trail of thermal formula that Snowball made._

_Her eyes widened to see that Mei had Snowball wall the doorway. Zarya was even more confused now than ever before, but she knew she is strong. And she wanted to know what Mei’s answer was. So she started punching the icewall._

_Her punches were so strong that some of the ice was melting from just the hits._

_“Cry some more—no wait, it’s melting.”_

_The icewall melted a bit, causing a thermodynamic cascade that cracked the ice, which melted the outermost layers, which then cracked it some more, until the wall crumbled._

_Whatever the ex-lifter was expecting in the room, it sure wasn’t what she saw._

_Mei was lying down, ring in finger, wearing nothing but a ribbon, wrapped around her like a present, with Snowball in the corner of the room displaying REC on his display LED._

_Aleks was stunned, her eyes widened, her jaw hung open, and she involuntarily shut the door._

* * *

And with her last chug from her last bottle, she set it down and passed out with an extremely happy expression.

The bartender felt conflicted whether to feel happy for the ex-athlete or to feel annoyed that she accidentally smashed the bottle when she clocked out.

He sighed. “Jamel!” he said, calling a clumsy omnic to come forth. “Help me clean up this mess, while I check if she has any cuts.”

The omnic nodded frantically, with a “Yes, Rabbi!” and sweeped the glass shards off the table and away from any customers drunk enough to possibly inflict self-harm.

“Funny how a noticeable lot of my customers have… less than positive views on my omnic children here.” He said to Lena as he tried, and failed, to lift the dead drunk Zarya’s arm.

“Did some try to attack the poor things?”

He huffed, puffed, and succeeded in lifting the large muscular arm.

For only a few centimeters.

“Nope, she’s safe…” he wheezed, and proceeded back behind the bar, where his job waited undone. He turned to Lena and said, “No one dared try,” he said, glancing at an ornate statue of an armored angel holding a large sword. “Any of us can easily dispose any dissident, but, we don’t kill them, just send them to the hospital, with a letter saying that they are forever banned to enter Archangel’s.”

Just then, Sheba approached. “Rabbi, the sky entrance is requested for entry.”

“Oh shit.” He groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s them again!”

Lena cocked her head as she watch the bartender flip some switches that opened the skyroof above the stage.

“Who?” Lena asked curiously. “Who usually goes through the sky entrance?”

Before the bartender could answer, two figures touched down in sequence.

“How’s the new calibrations translating to?” the woman in blue armor and jets asked. "Any hiccups we need to iron out again?"

“Kind of strong,” the woman in wings and white answered. She sighed, saying, “I swear, he’s going to rub it in, he was one of my many research teammates who recommended to keep the super-mode activated…”

Lena gasped. “Doctor? Captain?”

“Oh, hallo, Lena!” said the doctor. The captain went near the passed out Russian and pointed, adding a confused expression, answered by a shrug from Lena.

“Miss Ziegler and Miss Amari.” The bartender said, pointing to six mugs full of beer.

“Appenzeller!” Angela exclaimed. She went to sit down, saying “Danke, Archangel!” to the bartender who rolled his eyes, but she felt a hand tug on her shoulder.

“Habibi…” Fareeha said. “We have to dis-arm first.”

Sheba led them to the changing rooms, and within a few minutes, the two had removed the Raptora and Valkyrie suits and packed them in armor cases.

“Ahh!” Angela gasped as she downed her first mug. Lena looked on in surprise while the bartender rolled his eyes.

Fareeha took a gulp from her first mug and her eyes widened. She finished the rest and turned to the bartender.

“Friedmann, you brilliant bastard!” she exclaimed. “How did you--”

“Less talk, more drink, I didn’t just get two of my frequent customers some of their local favorites for nothing, did I?” the bartender interrupted. “It took a lot of arrangements, even for an establishment like mine.”

“Now, what made you two take air travel?” Lena asked, as she looked outside. “Traffic’s not _that_ bad…”

“Simple,” Fareeha answered. “We dropped by to pay old Friedmann here a visit, and buy some booze.”

“And then,” Angela added, glancing at Fareeha sultrily. “Stuff…”

Lena didn’t understand. The bartender chuckled.

“These are not on the house, I don’t care how well you know me, or of me…” he said to both the Swiss and the Egyptian. “Took me forever to broker trade deals for Appenzeller and Egyptian Stella…”

Angela and Fareeha nodded to each other, and drank the rest of their beer.

“Who knew?” Angela wondered wistfully.

“Who knew what?” the bartender asked back.

“You, one of the coats I worked with for the Valkyrie’s propulsion systems,” Angela began.

“Is the same coat who designed the fuel cell systems of the Raptora.” Fareeha added.

Lena could almost see a genuine smile from the bartender. Almost.

“Your booze is spent, payout and get out!” He said, flustered.

Angela giggled at the bartender briefly losing his cool, while Fareeha sported a goofy smirk.

“Thank you for the beer, Friedmann, and we left you a tip!” Angela said.

“Also Lena, tell Aleks when she wakes up that we have a run in 4 days.” Fareeha added.

The two left through the front door, armor-cases in tow, followed by a frantic Jamel messing up the goodbye.

“I wonder what they’re gonna do?” Lena asked the bartender with a sly grin.

‘Oh, NOW she gets it…’ he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at actually writing something smutty or implying smut. Either that or I have a very low opinion of myself.
> 
> Kudos, comment, enjoy!


End file.
